


No Defense For You

by dreiser



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/F, Femslash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreiser/pseuds/dreiser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the seventh year at Hogwarts and Hermione discovers she has no interest in boys, only in the new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Defense For You

**Author's Note:**

> DISCONTINUED! Read Aucune Defense Pour Toi by D. Geheimnis to see the fic continued. It's a far superior piece of writing to my own.
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4238384/1/Aucune-Defense-Pour-Toi

It's strange how a summer can change a person. When the sixth year at Hogwarts ended and Hermione parted ways with Harry and Ron, the last thing she thought she would be doing would be seeking feminine advice from her mother. Then again, she hadn't planned on it. One day it just struck her.

She had gotten an owl from Ron... apparently Harry had come to stay with his family earlier than usual that summer and they'd gone to Diagon Alley, meeting up with some cute girls. Reading the letter, Hermione realized that she really was just one of the guys to them, they didn't remotely consider her a girl, especially not with the way they were going on about these cute girls curves.

Looking in the mirror, dressed in her Muggle clothing her parents preferred she wear when she was home, a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, Hermione frowned. She wasn't ugly, she knew that. After all, it was hard to think one ugly when they still had the premiere Seeker in Quidditch, Viktor Krum, quite enamored with them.

But not ugly didn't quite equal pretty, did it?

Hermione had never considered things such as being attractive or caring about your looks very important. In fact, she thought only vain and silly girls like Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, who always annoyed her with their incessant giggling, worried about it. Then one by one, the insults she'd received over her years at Hogwarts came back at her. First the ones about her too large teeth before she'd had them fixed, then ones about her frizzy hair, uncontrollable as always, and her baggy robes, which she had bought to be larger than necessary out of comfort.

It was then that Hermione realized something. She took utmost pride in her grades, in her knowledge of magic, and in her studies. Getting good grades and being a good student, to her, showed people her worth, her competence. Why couldn't she show people that through her looks as well? It wouldn't hurt, would it, to take a little more care... to look a little nicer, not for them, but for herself.

Maybe then Harry and Ron would remember she was actually a girl and not tell her the more lurid details of their girl chasing. Well, Ron's girl chasing, she was sure that Harry was just along for the ride, being entirely devoted to Ginny since they had finally found themselves in a relationship. She did love them like they were her brothers, but there were some things she just did not want to hear about.

When she told her mother of her plans her eyes widened and she clapped her hands excitedly, fluttering about with plans. Hermione soon found herself down at Diagon Alley herself, shopping with her mother for new robes which would fit her a bit tighter, showing off her own surprisingly ample curves, along with make up and potions to help easily maintain her new more high maintenance morning routine which included making her hair sleeker and thickening her lashes.

Perhaps it was all this that caused Harry and Ron to stare dumbfounded at her when they met her at the Hogwarts Express. The only thing that was making any noise as she greeted them was Pigwidgeon, Ron's tiny owl, which was fluttering about in his cage, hooting as loud as could be.

Then Ron said quite dumbly, "Hermione, what's happened to you?"

"Went shopping," Hermione informed breezily, walking calmly past him and grinning widely as Mrs. Weasley gave her a knowing wink. It seemed, she too, knew what it was to want a make over in your life.

All was well though, because after a few minutes with Hermione on the train, Harry and Ron realized she hadn't changed at all. She was still their best friend, chattering on about all their new textbooks of which she'd already read half and her duties as Head Girl. It was just now she looked more like the beautiful young woman she truly was.

The rest of Hogwarts noticed the change as well. Not even the Slytherin could find any proper insults for Hermione's new look. It was impossible as now she looked as confident as she always felt. Her long brown hair sleek thanks to the morning potion she always took, swinging loose on her shoulders, her brown eyes dark and glittering, accented by the make up she wore and the thickening spell on her lashes, and her robes, not too tight, but tight enough to entrance many boys who watched her hips swing as she walked down the halls.

Strangely enough, it even helped Hermione deal with the Gryffindors she usually found annoying. Parvati and Lavender took delight in teaching Hermione the tricks they had learned over the years and in talking to them, she found them not nearly as annoying as she once thought them to be. Or as boy obsessed.

Riding high on these reactions, Hermione was having quite a good first week back and that's why she wasn't worried at all as she sat down to take in her first class for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Looking over at Harry and Ron, she gave them a little grin then asked, "Found out who the teacher is yet?"

"Not a clue," said Ron with a groan. He shook his head, causing his red hair to flop about. "I reckon it's someone we never heard of. Tried to get McGonagall to tell us but she wouldn't hear of it."

"Of course not," Hermione sniffed, her eyes twinkling playfully at him, not at all serious as she acted. "She has far better things to think about."

"You're just as curious as we are, Hermione," Harry accused softly, smiling at her, his gaze knowing.

"Maybe..." Hermione allowed with another grin.

Just then the doors to the classroom opened and in swept the figure of their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. All the boys gaped at what they saw... and so did several of the girls as well.

Hermione, on the other hand, scowled, and scowled deeply at that.

"Bonjour," drawled Fleur Delacour, voice lilting and soft, flashing a perfect and glittering smile which seemed to melt all the boys and the few girls in the class who were enraptured with seeing her. "I am Professor Delacour but please," she flashed a smile again, "call me Fleur. We are all going to be good friends, hm?"

Although it didn't seem possible she could, Hermione scowled even more.

\---

She tried ranting about it to Harry and Ron but they were both too dazed from Fleur's sudden and unexpected reappearance to listen to her. Ron especially, who had always had something of a crush on the woman. Harry, on the other hand, Hermione suspected, was simply affected by Fleur's veela heritage like most of the poor boys in their class. He did have Ginny.

Perhaps that's why Hermione ended up complaining to Lavender and Parvati. She was now glad that she'd become friends with the two of them. It was nice to have more than one female friend. After all, Ginny was busy with Harry more and more lately. As usual, they were sitting on Parvati's bed, which Lavender said was increasingly softer than hers thanks to some spells Parvati had cast, and Parvati was combing Lavender's long light brown hair with gentle efficiency. The habit was a daily one they enjoyed, one that Hermione had never really noticed until she started talking with the two girls. Lavender preferred for Parvati to comb her hair, saying she did it far better than she, being kinder with her touch, and less likely to tear her hair out fighting any knots that formed.

Hermione partially thought that Lavender just liked Parvati taking care of her. Not that Parvati really minded, she thought, watching the look of quiet satisfaction on the dark haired girl's sharp features as she carried out her task.

"Honestly though," Hermione said, tearing her eyes away from them and sitting down in a nearby chair. "Why in the world would they hire her? She barely has any experience at all... only three years out of school herself. What sort of teacher will she make anyway, entrancing all the boys like that?"

"Not just boys," said Lavender sourly, casting a look back at Parvati who reddened at this attention and looked upwards. Lavender seemed to be satisfied with this sign of embarrassment then faced Hermione. "What does it matter if she's our new Professor? No one lasts more than a year in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Even if they have veela blood to help charm their classes. And," Lavender looked pointedly at Hermione who arched an eyebrow at this, "this is our final term."

"Still," mused Hermione, frowning now, "how did she get the job?"

"Oh no," Parvati chuckled, pausing in her combing. She shifted on the bed and looked at Hermione who glanced up at her. Pointing the brush in her hand at her, Parvati said, "Don't go nosing around, Hermione. It's just gotten to the end of the first week, shouldn't you at least wait a month before getting into trouble?"

Hermione scowled at this and Lavender giggled. Except Hermione no longer found the sound annoying. Now it was almost charming, especially with how Lavender's blue eyes sparkled as she leaned back against Parvati who smiled at her. Sighing as Parvati lightly placed her hands on her waist, Lavender said to Hermione, "You like reading, don't you?"

In response to this question, Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked at Lavender as if she was mad. Lavender giggled at this reaction and shook her head, causing her light brown hair to fly about. Parvati smoothed some strands as Lavender continued, "Why don't you visit your favorite place and read up on Fleur then? I'm positive that they ought to have some books that have something to do with her in them. After all, she was the champion for Beauxbatons, wasn't she?"

Immediately, Hermione's brown eyes went wide and in seconds she was out of the room and then out of the dorm itself. And as she went, Hermione could have sworn she heard Parvati murmur in husky tones, "Alone at last."

Only to then be accented by Lavender's giggles which changed into soft moans.

\---

Unfortunately for Hermione, the library didn't have nearly as much information as she would've liked about Beauxbatons or even Fleur herself. It seemed that things hadn't really changed, Madame Maxime kept a tight lid on the goings on at her school and precious little information was available on it or its graduates. She heaved a sigh and pushed aside the fifteenth book she had read through to lean far back in her chair, craning her head to stare up in the library ceiling.

The library was quiet and Hermione enjoyed that, she always preferred the sound of peaceful silence to incessant noise. That's part of why she was so glad to be Head Girl and be awarded with her own room this term. The library's keeper, Madam Pince, didn't make a peep of noise herself except to shush those who did or to keep some of the more curious students away from the restricted section of the library.

Hermione had continued staring at the ceiling when a pair of deep blue eyes appeared where it used to be and she found herself gazing up at the very object of all her frenzied research. In an instant, Hermione was scowling.

"That is not a face becoming of a lady," Fleur tsked, her voice as lilting as ever, and Hermione noticed that her accent had calmed down quite a bit in the three years she'd last seen her. Then again, the last thing she'd said to them was that she had wanted to improve on her English. Apparently she had. Sitting smoothly down in the chair next to Hermione, she inspected the books and gave a soft smile. "So," Fleur murmured, reaching out to flip through a copy of Magic of Foreign Institutes, "you are keeping yourself busy, I see."

Never one for mincing words, Hermione narrowed her eyes and studied Fleur closely as she asked, "Why are you here?"

"What? The library?" asked Fleur, looking innocent. She flashed Hermione a bright and charming smile and said in a very faux confession, "I myself enjoy to read, Mademoiselle Granger. Surprising, is it not?"

"Right," said Hermione sharply, "now try really answering my question."

"No sense of humor," Fleur pronounced sadly with a sigh. Fixing her gaze on Hermione, she said simply, "I'm here to teach, of course." She stretched her elegant fingers out on the table, tapping her painted nails lightly on the surface. Watching her nails play out a quiet sort of melody, Fleur continued, "Why else would I be here, hm?"

"Why Hogwarts? Why not teach at Beauxbatons?" Hermione persisted, staring at Fleur's perfect profile, hidden partially by her long and shining silvery blonde hair which reflected the light shining in the room. "That's your school."

Releasing a soft laugh which to anyone but Hermione, and even to her though she'd never admit it, sounded like the tinkling of charming bells, Fleur looked over at the girl next to her. "Would you believe me if I said it was nothing more than a friendly foreign exchange?" Fleur drawled slowly. When she saw Hermione's dark brown eyes narrow, she chuckled. "Non? Very well then," she feigned a look of great exasperation, "I suppose I will have to tell you."

"Tell me what?" demanded Hermione, altogether suspicious that Fleur would tell her anything at all.

"Professor Grubbly-Plank," began Fleur over dramatically, leaning closer to Hermione, so close that she could tell she smelled lightly of lilacs.

"Yes...?" Hermione drew the word out eagerly.

Fleur's blue eyes twinkled and she moved closer yet, their faces inches apart, her breath hot and sweet on Hermione as she said, "Is teaching at Beauxbatons. We had need of a new Care for Magical Creatures teacher and you?" Fleur gave that bell like laugh again and rose to her feet, looking down at Hermione. "Well," she pushed a lock of hair from her eyes, "Hogwarts is always in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts expert, are they not?"

"Very funny," said Hermione darkly as she scowled furiously at Fleur who soon chuckled again. Rising to her feet, she met Fleur's eyes fiercely and said in clear and decisive tones, "I'm going to find out why you're really here. Mark my words."

With that, Hermione stomped out the library, hips unconsciously swinging due to her new found femininity, totally unaware that Fleur was watching her all the way, a soft smile of amusement on her sculptured features.

\---

True to her word, Hermione carried out her search, and managed to scrounge up some information on Fleur, finding out that, surprisingly enough, Defense Against the Dark Arts was her focus at Beauxbatons. She'd traveled the country, working as a freelance Auror for the Ministry, seeking out the remaining Death Eaters and other such troublesome creatures with her close colleagues. But when Dumbledore had sent her the invitation to take over the position at Hogwarts it was an offer that apparently Fleur couldn't refuse.

What annoyed Hermione further than learning that Fleur might actually deserve the post she'd recently gained but that she was also quite good at it. All the boys in her classes were still enraptured by her, along with a few girls that included Parvati until Lavender gave her the usual pinch to snap her out of it, but despite that Fleur somehow managed to give entertaining and educational lessons.

Currently they were having a lesson on vampires and Fleur had conjured up a spell that'd allow the class to be able to study one up close. It wasn't so much a vampire itself as a ghost of one, if anything. Clear and translucent, but full enough for people to see it, the vampire was under her command, opening its mouth when Fleur asked it to, so the class could see its pronounced fangs.

"A stake through the heart is the traditional way to kill a vampire," Fleur was saying airily as Hermione leaned forward in her seat, chin cupped in the palm of her hand, watching as Fleur produced her wand from her blue robe. "But we can move the process along with a spell or two," her blue eyes twinkled playfully and Hermione grimaced on hearing several sighs from her admirers. With a flick of her wrist and a wave of her wand, Fleur said, "Boisiti!" A small piece of wood was where the ghostly vampire stood and Fleur smiled as it then disappeared into nothingness. "A convenient spell to use if you ever run into one, no staking needed, it pierces the heart in an instant."

The class murmured with excitement and Hermione could see Ron's cheeks flush as he stared at Fleur. Rolling her eyes, Hermione focused out the window. It was almost as if she was back in Divinations again, she was so irritated by being there. That was when she heard Fleur say her name.

"Do you have any further suggestions?" Fleur was asking in a playful drawl. "Of how we might deal with our unfriendly guest?"

Meeting Fleur's deep blue eyes and forming the automatic scowl that, for whatever reason, Hermione always found herself doing when around Fleur, she pulled out her wand and called, "Eau'onde!"

In moments a trail of water was in the vampire's mouth, traveling through its system, finally leaking onto the floor and Fleur's expensive high heeled shoes. Fleur smiled widely at this, shaking her foot off and sending water sprinkling about.

"Very good, Mademoiselle Granger," she pronounced. "You may have ruined one of my favorite pairs of shoes but you would have killed the vampire." Fleur smiled at the rest of the class and said, "Another clever way to kill vampires, the Eau'onde spell allows holy water to emerge instantaneously in the vampire's system, killing them through the insides. Although," Fleur flicked her eyes over to the ghostly vampire whose skin and muscles were melting away before the bones vanished, "it is a tad more messy than many would prefer." Fleur focused on Hermione, smiling at her yet again. "Non?"

Before Hermione could reply, class was over and Fleur, as always, found herself surrounded with students bustling to get her attention. The only people who were leaving included Hermione, Parvati, who was firmly being led out the door by Lavender, and then Harry, who had given up on Ron who was with the swarm of people wanting Fleur's attention.

"Honestly," Hermione huffed to the others, "they can't all possibly have questions about her lesson, can they? They just want a chance to stare at her."

"And talk with her and maybe even touch her," added Parvati. When Lavender squeezed her hand a bit hard, Parvati yelped and jumped in the air. Looking at the other girl with dark puppy dog eyes, she said, "You didn't have to do it so hard."

"Sorry," said Lavender, actually sounding apologetic. She ran her fingers lightly over the inside of Parvati's hand. "I'll be gentle next time."

Parvati looked pacified at this and turned her attention back to Hermione. "What's the problem anyway?" she asked. "You did your research and it is pretty obvious she knows her stuff. Why do you care if she's got students mooning over her?"

Scowling at this, Hermione looked over at Harry who was smiling softly at her. "What?" she demanded. "What are you giving me that look for?"

"Nothing," said Harry, a quiet mysterious air in his tones, making it sound like he knew something she didn't for once. "Nothing at all." His bright green eyes then focused ahead and sparkled as he greeted happily, "Ginny!"

In her sixth year, Ginny, much like Hermione, was finally getting some appreciation for her looks. Her thick red hair went well past her shoulders and the warmth of her eyes captured anyone who saw her. That is, if they weren't captured by her charming curves which fit her compact frame well. Even the worn look of her robes couldn't distract from her simple and sweet beauty. She blushed as Harry leaned forward, depositing a light kiss on her lips, obviously not wanting to go further when they were in view of others.

"Hi," Ginny smiled at them, leaning into Harry as he wound an arm around her waist. "Everyone's done with classes for the day then?" She frowned, to look past them as she asked, "Where's Ron?"

"He's with Fleur," said Hermione with a great deal of disdain.

Raising an eyebrow and grinning, Ginny met Harry's eyes and he rolled them back to the heavens, as if to say that he had no clue what to do, and Ginny gave an amused laugh. "Honestly, Hermione," said Ginny with good humor. "What is your problem with Professor Delacour? Granted, she puts half the boys in our school under her veela spell but she's not that bad. I mean, she hasn't been anything but nice to you since she's started, right? And she is qualified."

"I... it's just..." Hermione fumbled for an explanation when presented with Ginny's perfectly reasonable arguments. She realized she really did have no clear reason to dislike Fleur as much as she did. There was just something about her that she found irritating to no end. "I just don't know!" she cried out before scurrying away, almost too quickly for her hips to swing and for several of her onlookers to drool.

Watching her go, Lavender sighed deeply. Looking over at Harry whom she was pretty sure shared her expert opinion, she said, "It is a bit pathetic, don't you say?"

"A bit," Harry nodded, a grin spreading on his features.

"Don't the two of you start again," Ginny chastised, she whapped Harry on his arm and much like Parvati before him, he feigned deep hurt, causing Ginny to rub his arm gently. Harry smiled at this as Ginny went on, "You shouldn't tease her over this. Obviously Hermione hasn't a clue her obsession with Fleur qualifies her as a member of the fanclub."

"When's the next meeting again? I'm supposed to be taking notes," said Parvati, causing Lavender to squeeze her hand again. She yelped and laughed nervously, "Just kidding."

They were walking towards Gryffindor tower, pausing in front of The Fat Lady for Harry to say, "Bumblebee." Then they walked inside and into the common room which was surprisingly empty of people. Most of them were probably still back in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom clamoring for Fleur's attention.

"I still don't understand how you came to this conclusion," said Parvati, sitting down next to Lavender on the couch. Across from them, Ginny settled in a nearby chair and Harry sat on the arm of it, his arm draped over the top. "From everything I can see, Hermione hates Fleur almost as much she does Malfoy."

"A clever ruse," Lavender giggled, she wagged her finger at Parvati, her eyes twinkling. "You should by now to never trust appearances, Parvati. After all, how many people at Hogwarts still think we're boy crazy?"

Parvati made a face at this comment and looked at Harry. "You're one of her best friends," she stated, "do you really invest this theory?"

"It's either she's jealous over Fleur or she's jealous over Ron," said Harry with a smile. "And I reckon the last person she'd be jealous over is Ron." He looked down at Ginny and asked, "Do you think?"

"Oh, this isn't about my brother, that's for sure," Ginny said emphatically. "Fleur is definitely why she's tied up in knots. After all, Hermione's daily rants are always about why is Fleur here and why do so many people fawn over her and why this about her and why that about her..." Ginny smiled again and leaned back, sighing as Harry played with her red hair, his touch gentle. "It's about Fleur."

"What's about Fleur?"

Rather nervously, they all turned to see Ron regarding them with a curious expression which turned dreamy as he said, "She's going to give me extra help with my essay on vampires if I want it. Said so herself."

This caused all of their nervous looks to increase all the more. Not that Ron noticed, he was far too caught up in a daze as he thought about Fleur. One that would have made Hermione scowl and scowl deeply on seeing it.

\---

She couldn't stand it anymore, no one would listen to her about Fleur and for whatever reason Hermione couldn't get herself to stop thinking about it. Not even her duties as Head Girl or her homework could distract her from Fleur. Perhaps that's why she ended up in the deserted portion of the grounds, far away from other people, sitting under her favorite tree, watching the splash of the water caused from the giant squid.

Sighing, Hermione leaned back against the tree, well aware bits of bark were getting in her shiny and perfectly styled hair, and not really caring.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked herself.

No answer came and she sighed again, focusing out at the water, so much that she almost didn't hear the snap of a twig and voices approaching. For whatever reason Hermione felt drawn to hide. Later, she would be very glad that she did this.

"How are things developing, Miss Delacour?" Hermione instantly recognized the kindly and amused tones, they belonged to none other than Dumbledore and the person he was talking to was more than obvious as well.

"Not so well as I had hoped," Fleur murmured, her voice lilting with its French accent, sadness laced in her words. "I think it a mistake, accepting this job. I am very grateful to you, of course, Headmaster, for giving me such a chance but I do not think it will work out for me." She sighed. "I should return to Philippe and the others. He told me this was a bad idea."

"Now, now," Dumbledore clucked his tongue. "I don't think you should be so hasty. After all, wasn't this what you had expected? What even brought you here in the first place?" He was quiet a moment, then continued, "I've heard of all the difficulties you can find in your searching. If you truly believe that yours came to an end years ago, why bother denying it and causing yourself pain?"

"Because," said Fleur, her voice not lilting for once, actually sounding hoarse with emotion as she spoke, "it is pain I know. It is a familiar friend that is nothing when I compare it to what I deal with now. I think my life before was much better."

"Better or easier?" inquired Dumbledore. There was a long moment of silence and Hermione heard quiet footsteps accompanied by a crunch of leaves as he said, "Miss Granger is the stubborn sort. Just give her more time."

Fleur sighed deeply then said softly, "But I do not have much."

Watching Fleur's tall and elegant form walk away, Hermione barely registered the gigantic splash of the squid in the water. What exactly did she have to do with causing Fleur pain? And why was Fleur running out of time? Hermione knew she wasn't exactly nice to the French woman but that was hardly something to cause the tormented manner in which Fleur had spoken to Dumbledore.

The only thing Hermione knew for sure was that now she definitely couldn't give up. She had always thought Fleur's arrival at Hogwarts as the teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts was suspicious from the start. But now? Well now, it was more than that.

Now she knew that somehow she was involved. The only thing was to find out why and how. So with that, Hermione rose to her feet and hurried off to the dorm. Hoping beyond hope that maybe Harry and Ron would believe her.

\---

Believe her... they believed that she heard what she did, however, they didn't believe Fleur was truly up to anything sinister as Hermione thought. Especially not Ron who was baffled about Fleur wanting anything to do with Hermione who clearly did not appreciate her many assets as he himself did.

Frustrated at this, Hermione decided her best friends were just not up to task in helping with her Fleur investigations. Which meant she was setting off alone.

Hermione kept a close eye on Fleur, especially in class where they were currently focusing on banshees. Watching with lidded eyes as Fleur magically zipped and unzipped the banshee's mouth that she had captured somewhere or another so the class could hear her ungodly wail, Hermione wondered what she had to do with Fleur being at Hogwarts.

Certainly she was Fleur's favorite student to call on in class. Which was rather strange since it was the one class where Hermione never raised her hand and nearly everyone else around her frantically did. After one such class, Fleur called to her escaping figure, "Mademoiselle Granger? A moment please?"

She froze in her walk and sighed deeply, knowing she had no excuse not to stay as it was rather well known this was her last class of the day. Hermione watched as Fleur shooed away her usual admirers, Ron included, all of which shot her a variety of envious and confused looks as they left the room.

"Well then," Fleur offered her best dazzling smile, "we are finally alone." Hermione gave her a doubtful look at this and Fleur chuckled. "You are wondering why I have asked you to stay after, hm?"

"Yes," allowed Hermione in rather cool tones.

Fleur made a tutting sound then shook her head. "Always so suspicious," she murmured and when she looked at her, Hermione was surprised to see a sad look in her blue eyes. "It bothers me you feel that way."

Opening her mouth to reply, Hermione was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey, apparently having left her ward for whatever reason. "Fleur?" she called. "I have your daily dose." Her eyes flickered over to Hermione and she saw a look of definite surprise in them. "You have to take it now, then we're having a check up today. No dilly dallying or avoiding it. You know it's needed."

"Yes," Fleur sighed deeply. She headed towards Madam Pomfrey, stopping at Hermione's side. "I will return shortly. Wait for me?"

It was more a request than an order and because of this, Hermione gave a stiff nod which caused Fleur to smile softly before she left with Madam Pomfrey. Now alone in the classroom and not quite sure what she was supposed to do other than wait, Hermione let her eyes rest on the desk in front of her.

Her gaze stopped on a rolled up parchment, obviously a letter of some sort, and Hermione walked towards the desk, reaching for it. She knew it wasn't right but it was necessary, she felt. After all, she obviously had something to do with why Fleur was here. She deserved to know the truth of the matter, didn't she?

That was how Hermione justified it to herself anyway. Not that it did much good, as the letter was written in French and Hermione could only make out every other word. The letter was written to her younger sister, Gabrielle, assuring that the courtship wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be, that she'd heard worse stories from their grandmother.

One passage in the letter struck Hermione as particularly significant. Especially if she managed to translate it correctly. If she did, then it read:

She is difficult, Hermione, and I wonder if it is worth the effort and pain. Grandmother insists it is and so does Mother. I find myself doubting that though. Having veela blood is very difficult, isn't it, Gabrielle? If I was 'normal' as it were, I would not be here, near her, in this situation.

Ah... I wish I were eleven again. Are you enjoying your first term? I trust you have taken some of my advice and have not gone searching for the hidden passageways as of yet. If you get into trouble from the start it would upset Mother greatly.

So take this advice from your elder sister, hm? Wait a week.

Hermione was contemplating the passage and what it meant when she heard footsteps approaching. Shoving the parchment back on the desk, she whirled around, fully prepared to face Fleur again. Only it wasn't Fleur, it was Professor Snape who looked at her with as much surprise as she did at him.

"Granger," growled Snape, "where is Delacour?"

It seemed that Fleur commanded as much respect from Snape as she did. Somehow that gave Hermione some strange bit of pleasure. Even if he probably only disliked Fleur because she got the job he wanted. "She left," said Hermione. "Went with Madam Pomfrey to the hospital wing. Told me to wait here."

"Oh, she did she?" Snape glowered at Hermione. His eyes narrowed at her and he stepped forward, towering over her. Raking his gaze up and down her body, taking in her shiny hair, neatly pulled back, her thick lashes, dark and beautiful eyes, and, of course, her attractive curves, he snorted. "I hope you're not taking this all seriously, Granger," he said derisively. "Doing this whole transformation of yours. You can't possibly trust any of her kind."

"Her kind?" asked Hermione sharply, her eyes filling with anger. If there was one thing she couldn't stand it was prejudice of any kind. She had certainly dealt enough on her own for having Muggles for parents.

"Veelas," supplied Snape, his gaze glittering on her. "What sort of creatures seek out and wish to spend their lives with those who hate them most?" Seeing a look of surprise emerge on Hermione's face, he formed a slow smile. "Oh, I see," said Snape with delight, "you haven't any idea why she's interested in you, do you?"

"Monsieur Snape," Fleur's voice echoed in the room and for once, Hermione could have sworn her charming and lilting tones were threatening. Deep blue eyes were hard as she crossed the room, boring them into Snape. Oh, it wasn't her imagination at all. Fleur was angry, quite angry at that. "Do you have a reason for being in my classroom, speaking about me to Mademoiselle Granger, or is it just your impeccable manners rising to the surface once again?"

Snarling at Fleur, his eyes glittered dangerously and Snape thrust a parchment at her. "From Dumbledore," he spat out, "asked me to give it to you."

"Oh?" Fleur arched an eyebrow and unrolled the parchment, chuckling at whatever was written there. Looking up after a moment, she rested her eyes on Snape then waved her hand carelessly at him. "You may go." They watched as Snape stormed out of the room and Fleur chuckled again. Looking over at Hermione, she murmured, "I think he may dislike me more than you do, hm? Be careful or he may steal your job."

"I don't... I mean..." Hermione stammered, flustered over her less than fond feelings towards the French woman being brought up.

"It is fine," Fleur said, waving her hand carelessly. "I am not so big headed as to think that everyone must like me. In fact," Fleur smiled at Hermione. "It is because you do not that you are so important to me."

"Snape said you're interested in me because you're veela," said Hermione cautiously, wondering if she'd be able to get the information she wanted through the direct route instead of sneaking around.

Fleur's deep blue eyes darkened, looking like the night sky as they focused on Hermione. "Yes," she said finally, heaving a sigh, "that is true, I suppose."

"Why is that?" asked Hermione softly.

A moment of silence passed then Fleur sighed once more. Walking away from Hermione, she searched through her leather satchel and produced a worn and ancient text. Handing it over to Hermione, she said, "You like to read, no? I think you'll find the answers to all your questions in that book. If you are not frightened away by what you read..." Fleur searched Hermione's features, looking for what Hermione had no idea, then finished quietly, "Come and find me."

Watching Fleur gather her things then walk out of the classroom, feeling altogether baffled about what had just gone on, Hermione looked down at the book in her hands. History and Habits of the Veela was its title.

Clutching the book in her hands, Hermione hurried out of the room, fully prepared to read it from front to cover tonight no matter what happened. Because she just had to know what this was all about.

\---

Only reading was much harder than she expected. For some reason the first years were up in arms, making nonstop noise in the common room and since it was nowhere near lights out, her rage as Head Girl wasn't useful in quieting them down. She considered going to the library but quickly realized that Harry and Ron would be there, writing fake Divinations down for class, and they would want to know why she had a book on veelas. Especially Ron, who was still immersed in his crush on Fleur.

Deciding finally to try and read in her room, Hermione was more than a little frustrated when she found that she could hear all of the noise from the common room from there. Not to mention the noise from the nearby seventh year girl dorms. She really didn't want to spend time looking for a silencing charm which would block out the noise, so she gathered her cloak, put it on and proceeded to leave the dorm.

But not before she passed by the seventh year room that was making all of the noise and opening the door in time to catch the sound of a gasp and a giggle then the always familiar sound of Lavender's moan which caused Hermione to smirk.

Now that she thought back on it, Hermione wasn't sure how she could have ever considered Parvati and Lavender to be boy crazy, it was more than obvious they were fixated on each other. Although, Hermione noted, they certainly hadn't been this obvious before. Maybe it had to do with being in their seventh year and just not caring what others thought as they were about to graduate.

"I'm leaving, so you'll be alone with the first years," Hermione announced to the gasps and moans coming from behind the door. The sounds stopped for a moment and she grinned, realizing she'd managed to embarrass them. "Have fun. Oh, and Lavender? Try a silencing charm next time. You need it. I could hear you from my room and it is quite a ways from yours."

As she left the room, Hermione heard Parvati chuckle in amusement then yelp as obviously Lavender had pinched her yet again in another sensitive spot. Walking into the common room and to The Fat Lady, she murmured, "Bumblebee."

The Fat Lady frowned at her and said, "Late for you to go out, isn't it?"

"Be quiet," Hermione scowled, disappearing from the painting's sight, "I'm allowed, after all. I'm Head Girl."

Sighing despondently, Hermione wrapped her cloak about her body and shivered. It was getting colder it seemed and part of her wanted to return to the tower, seek out the warmth of the building again. Shaking her head against this as she recalled just how loud Lavender could become and the chances of her actually taking time to use a silencing charm, which would mean parting from Parvati's embrace, were incredibly slim indeed and Hermione decided to keep walking. She had to read this book.

Producing a blue flame in her hand, she warmed herself slightly, and felt much better as she found herself at her favorite spot. The spot where she had heard of Fleur's apparent interest in her. Although, what that interest meant, she had no idea. The squid splashed in the water and Hermione repeated the conversation in her mind, trying to figure it out. As always, it remained a mystery to her.

Sighing again, she set the blue flame down and opened the book to go about finishing it. Or at least getting past chapter thirty which dealt with the origins of the veela species.

"Out late, aren't we, Miss Granger?"

Lifting her head, Hermione sprang to her feet on seeing Headmaster Dumbledore who smiled generously at her, a kind twinkle in his eyes. "Headmaster! I was just reading," Hermione sputtered, showing him the book and feeling quite nervous.

Taking in the title, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and murmured, "Miss Delacour has spoken with you then?"

"I guess," said Hermione slowly. On seeing Dumbledore's amused expression, she said sheepishly, "Not really. She just gave me this book, is all. Said I should read it if I want to understand. Only I've read almost the whole thing and I'm nowhere close to understanding anything. Especially," Hermione trailed off, not sure how to continue.

"Especially what?" questioned Dumbledore.

"I heard her speaking to you," said Hermione a bit anxiously.

"Oh?" Dumbledore smiled. He tilted his head to one side then murmured, "I should apologize for calling you stubborn then."

"No," Hermione shook her head, "you're probably right. I am stubborn. But I talked with Professor Snape as well and he said I shouldn't trust her, that she's only interested in me because she's veela. I told her that and she gave me this book, saying it'd explain everything but it hasn't explained a thing!"

The words just came spilling out of Hermione's lips, expressing all the frustrations of the past weeks and Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. "Page nine hundred and eighty three is particularly useful, I think you'll find."

Having said that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Leaving Hermione in something close to shock. Sitting down on the ground, next to the blue flame so she could read, Hermione opened the book and hurriedly flipped to the page he spoke of. It was the start of a new chapter, the title of which read: The Fickle Veela in Romance, Cross Species Dating.

Running her eyes over the page, Hermione stopped on a passage that almost made her heart stop. She reread it several times, perhaps even fifty times at the most, making absolutely she had read it right. Each time it was the same so she must have. If she did then it meant something quite unfathomable to her. Hermione's eyes stopped on the passage again.

Veela are likened to the sirens of ancient times but instead of song, they lure in men and women alike with their very presence. There are precious few humans who do not fall under the natural charms of a veela. This is not a issue amongst veela, they are immune to their own powers, but as time has passed more half breeds have been born, resulting in issues when it comes to the mating process.

The veela know their mates on sight. When they meet, a bond is formed and there is nothing more need be said. With half breeds it is a far more complicated process which involves the courtship ritual. It is well documented that veela will waste away without their mates. Half breeds are of no exception but those of human/veela heritage are especially vulnerable, a half breed can last only a few years without their mate before being without them ultimately leads to their death.

Perhaps the most unusual factor for the half breed courtship ritual is that it involves one who is indifferent to them. Never is it someone who has fallen under their thrall. It is the ingrained desire of all veela to not want someone under their power. One would suppose it has to do with the unpleasantness of being married to someone without knowing if they truly love you or are simply caught in your web of charm.

Which is why half breeds consistently mate and court those who show no interest in them or even, in fact, dislike them on sight. This, of course, leads to perhaps the most complicated relationships any have seen.

Paling significantly, the book slipped from Hermione's fingers and fell to the ground as she stared blankly ahead. Barely aware of the splash of the water as the giant squid emerged to the surface.

Just like the book had said, suddenly things had gotten quite complicated.

\---

It was the last thing Hermione expected. Despite not knowing exactly what she was expecting she knew most definitely she was not expecting this. Yes, the fact that Fleur was veela wasn't a secret from her but she had no idea...

Well, she just had no idea.

This was why Madam Pomfrey had come to see Fleur then, why she had to take that potion, why she needed the check up. Hermione reread the passage for one last time then stared blankly out at the lake.

She didn't like Fleur, no, not at all. But this book said she might die. Why? It made no sense... it wasn't logical at all. Releasing a deep breath to calm herself, Hermione looked back down at the book, lighted by her blue flame, and knew there was really only thing she could do right then and there.

And that was finish the rest of the book.

After all, she reasoned, Fleur did say it would explain everything. Sighing deeply and preparing to read long into the night, Hermione flipped the page and became deeply engrossed in the mating habits of the veela. Her heart sinking with every page as she read realizing more and more, it definitely had to do with her.

If everything in the book was right, and Hermione thought it definitely was, she really had to have a talk with Fleur tomorrow.

\---

The trouble was, Fleur wasn't in class. In fact, Fleur wasn't anywhere. No one knew where she was, not even her legions of admirers, many of which weren't too eager to give any information to Hermione who they knew wasn't amongst their numbers but still managed to spend more time with the object of their desire than they did. Hermione spent her spare time wandering around Hogwarts in a vain search for Fleur which was just making her more frustrated.

Almost two hours had passed in her try to find Fleur escapade when Hermione found herself in the hospital ward of the school. That's where she heard the familiar lilting voice of Fleur, speaking in her light accent to Madam Pomfrey.

"Impossible," Fleur was saying, her tones agitated, "I have already missed one day of classes, Madam Pomfrey. I will not miss more. It is foolishness."

"It's your health, Fleur!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, sounding just as agitated. "I know you're trying to resolve the situation on your own but this isn't wise at all. You're only causing yourself to become more ill."

"I am leaving," announced Fleur, her voice was trembling now. There was the sound of stumbling and the rushing of feet. A moment of silence passed before Fleur said quietly, "It is fine. All will be well... I promise."

"Fleur," began Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes?" Fleur cut her off, sighing slightly.

"Your potion."

Silence enveloped them again and Hermione could practically see Fleur smiling softly for some reason. She saw it in her minds eye, as clear as day, it was a small smile that curled on her lips, lifting them up slightly, making her look utterly charming. Then Fleur said in a quiet drawl, "Merci."

The door opened and Hermione scuttled out of sight. Fleur stood in the hallway, shifting her eyes about, finally resting on the large statue that Hermione was hidden behind and her lips formed the exact smile Hermione had imagined.

"Hiding?" asked Fleur and although her deep blue eyes were tired, echoing with worry, they twinkled at Hermione with humor. "I am not that frightening, surely."

Stepping out from behind the statue of a knight, noticing with some embarrassment it rolling its eyes at her, Hermione smiled nervously. "I read the book," she said finally. "I wanted to talk with you about it."

"I had thought you might," replied Fleur. She studied Hermione before walking towards the girl, her movements lacking their usual fluid grace. "Come," she murmured, walking still, "we should discuss this somewhere more private, non?" When Hermione followed after her, Fleur looked backwards, over her shoulder and stared into the shadows at the far end of the hall. "Where we will be alone."

\---

For some reason, Hermione never really imagined where her teachers lived. Somehow she didn't think they had lives outside of Hogwarts. Other than Hagrid, of course, whom she had gotten to know quite well over the years.

Perhaps that's why she took in Fleur's house with some surprise. It was on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, isolated from most of the school. But that wasn't what surprised her most. Somehow she had expected Fleur that would choose to live in more extravagant settings than this. The house was of normal size, just two stories, wooden and simple in appearance, its architecture not modern in the least, giving it an aged appearance. Granted, it was only Fleur staying there but somehow Hermione expected that she grew up in a mansion or other such elaborate surroundings.

Seeing Hermione's surprise, Fleur smiled as she quietly shut the door to the house. "A replica of my family's summer house," she offered in explanation. "It is a simple spell to perform. Certainly you could," Fleur's eyes twinkled.

The nearby coat rack held its golden arms out, hands stretched to take Fleur's cloak as she removed it. "Merci, Goldie," said Fleur easily, walking past the coat rack which waved at her happily and gave several thumbs up. Looking back at Hermione who was trailing after her cautiously, she said, "Would you like to have our chat in the parlor? I think it the most comfortable room in the house."

"That's fine," said Hermione slowly, her eyes darting around, taking in the simple wooden structure of the house, reflecting age and elegance.

It had obviously been passed down through the generations, the real one that is, and the walls were covered with portraits. Most likely of Delacour family members who were, for the most part, winking and wearing what seemed to be the patented smile of their clan. Walking into the parlor and watching as Fleur gave a light flick of her wand, causing a fire to light up in the fireplace, Hermione focused her gaze on yet another portrait. This one with Fleur herself in it.

A handsome man, obviously human, with thick blonde hair and warm brown eyes smiled kindly at her. Next to him stood a woman a few inches taller than him with long and shining silvery blonde hair, skin lightly tinged gold, her eyes the exact color of Fleur's. Her gaze was lidded, looking at Hermione cautiously, almost like she was trying to figure her out. Positioned in front of them was Fleur, sitting in a chair, just finishing crossing her legs and giving Hermione her usual glittering smile. At her side, leaning on the chair and glaring fiercely at Hermione was a girl, thin and gangly with shoulder length blonde hair pulled back by barrettes, her eyes were royal blue and narrowed. She scowled then stuck out her tongue and whirled around so only her back could be seen.

Noticing Hermione studying the portrait, Fleur sighed at the girl's antics. "My sister, Gabrielle," she said, walking towards the nearby couch and sitting down. She looked at Hermione and smiled wryly. "She is a bit protective over me."

"She seems nice," offered Hermione, not sure of what else to say.

Chuckling at this, Fleur shook her head, causing long blonde locks to fly about. Pushing several out of her eyes, she said, "I love her, my sister, but she can be something of a trial." Fleur glanced back at the portrait where Gabrielle was looking at them again and was now making faces. "In fact, she is one almost all of the time. Still," Fleur focused on Hermione and smiled, "family is family." They were quiet for a moment then Fleur lightly patted the couch cushion next to her. "Will you sit?" she requested. "You make me nervous, standing there."

"Sorry," Hermione jumped, apologizing. She made her way over to the couch, sitting down but keeping a nice distance between herself and Fleur. Something that she was positive the other woman noticed. "So," she began nervously, "the book."

"Yes," Fleur sighed, looking almost disappointed the subject was brought up so soon, she faced Hermione. "That is why we are here, is it not? Well then," she murmured, her blue eyes cautious. "You've read it so surely you must have questions for me."

"Am I the reason you're sick?" asked Hermione quickly, the words rushing out of her. "Because if I am then I want to help you. Even though I'm not sure how I can help. I did read the book but a lot of it was confusing and--"

"Mademoiselle Granger," said Fleur, smiling and holding up her hand, interrupting the girl's babbling speech which caused Hermione's cheeks to flush. "It is fine," she said in quiet, soothing tones, her voice lilting again. She looked away from Hermione, out the window of the house and at the grounds. "I have been ill for some time. It has nothing to do with you, I swear it."

Watching Fleur and suddenly feeling very sad, Hermione asked in hushed tones, "Why are you sick then?"

"You read the book," said Fleur, looking at Hermione. "I am not a half breed but I am close... my mother is one and my father, he is a human wizard." She was looking back at the portrait where her parents smiled kindly at her and Gabrielle was sitting on the ground, her head peeking up over the frame, glaring at them. "There is only a short amount of time after puberty that may pass before the need to find a mate takes me over. If I do not..." Fleur trailed off.

"What?" Hermione encouraged.

Locking her eyes on Hermione once more, Fleur sighed then looked at the fire as she said, "I become ill. So you see, it has nothing to do with you, not really. It is merely my bloodline."

"I don't think it's mere, Fleur," said Hermione and Fleur jerked her head up, looking at her with surprise on hearing the worried tones in her voice. Frowning, Hermione went on, "And neither does Madam Pomfrey or Headmaster Dumbledore."

"They worry themselves needlessly," Fleur waved her hand. She sighed and shifted on the couch, stretching her legs out and instantly, a footrest scurried to her, settling in front of Fleur so she could put her feet on it. Tipping her head back against the couch, Fleur looked up at the ceiling. "I have dealt with this for quite some time. I had hoped... well, I had hoped different things but I see now this is not the place for me. I belong elsewhere, I should think." She moved her head and Fleur smiled softly at Hermione. "It seems the trend will continue, hm? No Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts lasts long at Hogwarts. Ah well," she sighed again, "I will finish out the year, at least."

"What did you hope for?" asked Hermione and Fleur sighed again. Narrowing her brown eyes at this, she continued, "And what do I have to do with it? Is it like what I read in the book? Because I don't fall under your thrall? Staring at you with a brain dead worshipping expression like nearly everyone else at school?"

Fleur stared blankly at Hermione for a moment then she burst out into laughter. Unlike her chuckles, which were quiet and melodic, her laughter was a full and hearty sound, somehow making Hermione laugh along. Because, really, she did find the expressions that Ron and the others in Fleur's fanclub wore quite funny.

"Yes, it has to do with that," said Fleur, chuckling still. She was quiet, a serious expression forming on her sculptured features and her blue eyes darkened into the color of the night sky as she turned to face Hermione. Scooting forward, she left a spare few inches between them as she murmured, "Do you know how rare it is? How hard it is for my people, for the veela, to find someone who doesn't fall under our spell? Can you even imagine what it is like... to talk to someone and see their eyes glaze over and know that no matter what you say, they will agree, despite not really hearing a word that you have uttered?" Fleur was utterly solemn and her jaw was set, a steady tick forming in it. "A form of hell, I would think." She then leaned back, away from Hermione, and smiled softly. "That is why you interest me. You are not under my thrall... you don't look at me that way, you hear everything that I say, although you might not care for one word of it. I must admit," Fleur chuckled again, "I find it invigorating."

"Then you don't want me?" Hermione said slowly, a feeling of mixed disappointment and relief rising up in her. "For the courtship ritual, I mean."

Fleur studied Hermione for several long and seemingly endless moments before she smiled extravagantly, her teeth glittering in the light, her blue eyes deep and shining, as she said quite simply, "No, Mademoiselle Granger. You are mistaken. I do want you. Very much."

Hermione, for once in her life, could not think of a reply.

\---

The situation, play by play, went like this. Most of Hogwarts was interested in Fleur; Fleur was interested in Hermione; Hermione was interested in being left alone; and all of Hogwarts was interested in why Fleur was interested in Hermione. This made for a very interesting situation.

At least to everyone but Hermione, who was getting quite sick of the attention she was getting not from her intelligence or from being Head Girl or even from new improved look and always enticing swing of her shapely hips but instead from the situation with Fleur. A situation which she had a hard time explaining to Ron and Harry.

"She likes you because you don't like her," said Ron dimly, his face screwing up in a frown as he tried to figure it all out. Shaking his head, he looked at Hermione then said, "That doesn't make sense."

"I know!" Hermione exclaimed with frustration, waving her hands about. "It makes no sense at all! No sense! I think the veela are crazy you know, that or they get a perverse joy out of driving people mad because I think that is what's happening to me. I'm going mad! Stark raving mad, bonkers!" Hermione was now ranting as she paced back in forth on the yard, ignoring the stares from some of the passing students, not really caring what anyone thought at the moment, she was so frustrated. "I simply can't take it!"

"I think it makes a bit of sense," said Harry thoughtfully. When Hermione and Ron's gazes, both angry at his words, pierced into him, he shrugged sheepishly. "Well, think about it," he murmured, "would you want to be with someone you didn't know really and honestly liked you? At least if they win over someone who doesn't like them at first or who just isn't interested, they know for sure they can't ever fall under their thrall." Harry smiled now. "That the love is genuine."

Ron stared at Harry for a moment. "My sister did this to you," he said sadly, shaking his head. "She ruined you for all time. I knew that she would."

"Shut it," Harry said, shoving Ron on the shoulder. Looking towards Hermione, who was glaring at several students walking past and whispering to each other, he asked, "What are you going to do? Keep ignoring her?"

"Ignore Fleur?" said Ron incredulously, staring at Harry as if he was the one going mad thanks to all the gossip going around about him. Then again, there was always gossip about Harry it was just that he, unlike Hermione, had gotten very used to it and was practically immune to its effects. "She can't do that!"

"I wish I could," muttered Hermione and Ron looked positively scandalized on hearing this. She sighed deeply and ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it out. "I suppose that I'll simply have to deal with all of this. After all," she gave a halfway bright smile that begged for them, as her best friends, to give her hope, "I'm sure Fleur will become interested in someone else."

Harry and Ron alike looked very doubtful at this prospect. Something that didn't give Hermione hope in the least.

\---

Class was pretty much the same. Except for the fact that most people in it glared at Hermione when they were mooning over Fleur. Sometimes they did it at the same time. This usually happened whenever Fleur would call on  
Hermione.

Something that Hermione was beginning to increasingly dread. It was her habit to listen to Fleur but to avoid looking at her and to especially avoid eye contact. She didn't quite know why, especially since she was supposedly immune to Fleur and her veela charm, but every time Hermione looked into those deep blue eyes that always regarded her affectionately, her heart would beat faster.

The sensation was entirely disturbing for her and that was why Hermione almost never looked Fleur in the eyes unless she absolutely had to. Which was why she was staring out the window of the class when Fleur called out  
her name.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione looked at Fleur's chest then blushed as she realized what Fleur would think of her looking at that of all things, then she lifted her gaze just a bit to stare at Fleur's neck. Phew. Yes, the neck was a safe zone. Not at all like the chest which contained the soft and alluring swell of her breasts or the lower portion of her face that had full and curving lips and lord, not the hips... yes, the neck, it was safe. She decided from now on she'd simply look at Fleur's neck.

Hermione was starting to seriously doubt she was immune to anything. Maybe she'd gotten some horrible form of the magical flu or something. Just what she needed. Her dreaded enemies, the members of Fleur's fanclub, would probably just take her being ill as an opportunity to finally finish her off.

"Mademoiselle Granger?" Fleur's charming lilt brought Hermione back to reality and she jumped, jerking her head up, freezing as she realized she had just done herself in. She was no longer looking at Fleur's neck and was now staring into deep blue eyes. Which were, she swallowed the lump in her throat, twinkling at her fondly. Damn her. "Do you have any suggestions for how we might defeat a giant in battle?"

"Soft spot on their head," said Hermione hoarsely, really and truly wanting to just be left alone. She then tore her gaze away from Fleur's and looked back out the window.

"Exactly," said Fleur and Hermione could tell she was smiling by the tone of her voice. "The only weakness of a giant, besides poor eyesight is a soft spot located on their heads. Which is the reason that you almost never see one without their helmet on. After all," Fleur chuckled, "if you had but two weaknesses wouldn't you do your best to conceal them from others?"

Several people sighed mournfully at this, obviously relating these words back to Fleur and her much circulated problems thanks to her veela heritage, and Hermione formed a scowl. She was almost starting to miss Divinations.

When class ended Hermione didn't bother leaving as she somehow knew that Fleur would want to talk to her afterwards. Which is why she sat, a bored look on her face, chin in the palm of her hand, staring out the window while Fleur politely shooed away her large crowd of admirers so they could talk. Once they were alone and the click of the door shutting sounded, Hermione sighed and stared at Fleur's stylish high heels which were the exact color of her eyes.

"You will not look at me at least?" said Fleur softly. A moment passed and Hermione lifted her gaze, looking rather like a first year meeting the Bloody Baron in a dark hall. "Why do you wear that face?" Fleur asked and hesitantly her hands reached out, elegant fingers tracing the barest path to lightly rest on Hermione's face, as if through touch she hoped to memorize its planes. "This is unpleasant for you, I know that," she went on, not seeming bothered by the lack of response from the girl in front of her. "I often feel the same. I do not enjoy the attention as they would think."

"Then why not forget about me?" said Hermione abruptly, jerking her face backwards, not at all liking how much she was starting to enjoy Fleur's caress. "Find someone else who won't fall under your thrall. Someone not at Hogwarts."

"Because I cannot," said Fleur sharply, her voice almost harsh and Hermione looked at her and found her features had contorted in anger. Deep blue eyes narrowed and she whirled away from Hermione, gathering up her leather satchel. Storming out of the room, the last thing Fleur said before the door closed loudly was, "I never thought you could be this cruel or foolish."

All of ten seconds passed then Hermione scowled like she had never scowled before and she followed after Fleur, running at top speeds. Not caring they were in the middle of a very crowded hallway, Hermione grabbed Fleur's arm, which had swung back in her furious walk, and turned her around so they would be facing. Making her scowl of all scowls deeper, Hermione glared up at her.

"What did you say that for?" demanded Hermione shrilly. "You were the one who began this whole thing! You came here because of me and not the other way round! Don't you dare start calling me names!"

Fleur's deep blue eyes narrowed and she stared at Hermione's fingers, wrapped around her arm then she lifted her gaze to look into dark brown eyes. The whole world slipped into a horrible slow motion for Hermione and then, the next thing she knew, Fleur's lips were on hers, kissing her in the plain sight of a good portion of Hogwarts.

And those lips, they were cool, soothing on her like a balm, making her feel like that was where they belonged. Elegant hands dropped the satchel they held and pressed lightly onto her waist, holding her close, pressing them into each other and Hermione gasped as she felt the swell of Fleur's breasts against her own. Unable to think, unable to do anything but focus on Fleur and her lips, soft on her own, opening her up in a wet demand of desperate need, Hermione forgot where she was, who she was, and responded, allowing Fleur's tongue to slip into her mouth.

That was when a loud cough sounded in the air.

Seeming unaffected by this, Fleur took her time when pulling away from Hermione, sucking lightly on her lower lip then kissing her gently. Resting her palm on Hermione's cheek, both of which were flushed heavily, Fleur smiled softly at her then tilted her head, turning to look at whoever had interrupted them.

Hermione should have expected it to be Professor Snape, it made sense, after all. He always seemed to be around when things went wrong in her life. Snape was always there to gloat and punish, that was what he was best at.

"Delacour," said Snape in his always snide tones, looking at Fleur as if she was some sort of insect he really wanted to squash. "I know Dumbledore is giving you leeway when it comes to your relationship," he sneered on the last word, "with Granger but I doubt he would approve of such displays. Particularly when it is a Hogwarts Professor and the Head Girl responsible for these acts."

"Oh?" Fleur arched a blonde eyebrow. She wore an entirely calm expression, unlike Hermione who didn't ever like being under Snape's inspection, much less most of the school, seeing as all of the students present were busy with gaping at them. Sensing this perhaps, Fleur reached back and took Hermione's hand in her own. "I had always thought the Headmaster to be the romantic sort. Besides," she smiled softly and looked back at Hermione before facing Snape again, "there would be nothing to tell, after all. This was simply my way of apologizing for a lover's tiff." Fleur's deep blue eyes twinkled and she drawled, "Would he really care of such things?"

Staring at them for a long while, Snape snarled then stomped past, obviously intent on talking to Dumbledore no matter what Fleur said. Sighing at this, Fleur watched him leave then murmured, "Horrible man." She looked at Hermione who was busy avoiding the stares of her fellow students. "Hermione?"

Hermione vaguely realized it was the first time Fleur had called her that, had called her by her first name, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered except that everyone was staring at her and that she had made a fool out of herself yet again. No, not her, Fleur had made a fool out of her, and she didn't even care that she had done this.

Shaking her hand out of Fleur's grip, Hermione said stiffly, "You shouldn't have done that. Not here, not in from of everyone."

"Yes," Fleur admitted, her eyes drifting over the students around them. "Much like we should not discuss this here as well. Will you accompany me then?"

"Just leave me alone," Hermione bit out, rushing away from Fleur, away from the stares on her, away from everything going on in her life lately. "Leave me alone!"

Watching Hermione go, Fleur noted that this was the first time her hips didn't swing attractively as she departed. Which meant, by all means, that she had managed to upset the girl very much this time. Heaving a sigh, Fleur picked up her leather satchel and pondered what she should do next as she left.

The rest of the Hogwarts simply stared.

\---

On the weekend Hermione escaped into Hogsmeade, feeling that there had to be at least some people in the town who weren't obsessed with Fleur and therefore, were not angry at her over the kissing fiasco. She thought that the stares in the hallway after the kiss were bad, well, they were nothing next to the glares she was currently receiving. Every other person in Hogwarts was furious at Hermione for getting to do the one thing they apparently wanted to do most. Kiss Fleur.

Part of Hermione couldn't blame them. She did know first hand that Fleur was a good kisser. Her fans didn't but she supposed that people under Fleur's thrall just assumed that she was and in this case, they assumed correctly.

Still, one good kiss certainly wasn't worth all this trouble. Not even one Hermione found herself dreaming about the day after. Well, each day after, with the dream getting more elaborate each time. Something that Lavender teased her about while Parvati asked details on the dream when Lavender wasn't around.

Ron, on the other hand, was furious at Hermione for three days before he gave in and wanted to know details as well. Something which frustrated Hermione to no end. She hoped to find solace in Hogsmeade and in the Three Broomsticks with a tankard of butterbeer. Parvati and Lavender were with her, hoping that they might somehow cheer her up. Lavender and Hermione were both exhausted after Parvati, who had a shockingly strong sweet tooth, purchased enough candy at Honeydukes to last the entire year. Although, according to Lavender, they would be lucky if it lasted Parvati a month.

Having dentists for parents, Hermione simply shook her head and thought about all the horrifying things Parvati would've had to go through if she didn't happen to be a witch with magic on her side.

"You know, one thing still confuses me," said Lavender, averting her eyes away from Parvati, who was busy searching through her bag of treats, to Hermione. "I thought you said that Fleur was sick, that being veela did it  
to her."

"Yes, because of the courtship ritual," said Hermione with a nod. She frowned at Lavender, whom she now knew to be far more perceptive than she could have ever thought. "Why does that confuse you though?"

"Because," said Lavender slowly, obviously mulling it over. "If Fleur is sick then why isn't she moving more quickly? From everything you've told us it seems like as soon as the courtship ritual is done, she'll be fine. Except she hasn't even gone to you about it."

"Maybe she's waiting," Parvati suggested, popping an every flavor bean into her mouth. She made a little sound of pleasure then murmured, "Mint ice cream."

"Waiting?" echoed Hermione, looking confused.

"Yeah, you know," Parvati said, not looking up through her every flavor bean search. Once she had the horrifying experience of finding the fart bean and she wasn't about to relive that again. "Waiting for you to start to like her more. Fleur doesn't seem like the type to force herself on anyone. Besides," Parvati looked up at Hermione, holding a bean which she thought might be blueberry in her hand. "Hasn't she been busy trying to win you over since the kissing incident? You're having dinner with her tomorrow, right?" She popped the bean into her mouth and grimaced then spat it onto the table. "Ew! Toilet bowl cleaner!"

"Ick, Parvati," said Lavender in her best cute whine, flicking the chewed up bean at her girlfriend, "try keeping things in your mouth, okay?"

"You didn't say that last night," replied Parvati, smiling flirtatiously.

Lavender rolled her eyes at this and looked at a stunned Hermione. "Parvati is probably right about this, you know," she said. "I bet Fleur is just waiting for some sign that you like her back." Lavender studied Hermione carefully then gave a mischievous grin. "So," she drawled, "do you like her?"

"What?" Hermione blinked, looking blankly at Lavender. Realizing what her friend had just said, she exclaimed, "Don't be ridiculous! The reason she wants me is because I don't like her!"

"I thought it was because you're immune to her thrall," said Parvati, arching an eyebrow and looking fairly smug with herself. It was an expression that only Lavender could love and she smiled happily at Parvati before facing Hermione.

"I know about the dreams," Lavender said in a silky smooth voice. She looked over at Parvati who suddenly wasn't quite so smug and guiltily searched through her bag of every flavor beans for one that wouldn't make her sick. "Parvati's not good at keeping secrets from me."

"I see," said Hermione rather sourly. Shaking her head, she then looked at Lavender and said quite plainly, "Dreams are dreams. They aren't anything to get worked up about. Just because I've had a few about Fleur doesn't mean I'm not still furious over what she did to me. Honestly," huffed Hermione, folding her arms over her chest, "kissing me in front of the whole school! Practically everyone in Hogwarts hates me now."

"Fleur doesn't," said Parvati in teasing tones, popping a bean into her mouth and sighing with relief. "Nice boring chocolate. Yummy for me."

"I don't care if Fleur hates me!" Hermione cried in agitation.

Lavender and Parvati's eyes widened at this outburst and Lavender opened her mouth to reply when Hermione interrupted, "No! I mean it, Lavender, I don't care one little bit of what Fleur thinks of me! She can just bugger off!"

"But Hermione--" Lavender tried again.

"I'm serious when I say this, I truly am!" Hermione announced, rising to her feet, hands on her hips.

"Hermione--" Parvati took her turn.

"I... don't... care..." Hermione slowly spaced the words out, staring at them like they were some type of magical creature she had never seen in her textbooks before.

Instead of trying one final time, Lavender and Parvati sighed then shrugged, lifting up their wands and casting a wind spell to gently turn Hermione around. Causing her look into deep blue eyes that held a vague hint of amusement and, if you looked close enough, which Hermione always did, hurt as well.

"Bonsoir," said Fleur, her lilting tones as even as her gaze as it bore into Hermione with an unwavering strength. "So," her voice was disturbingly accepting. "You do not care?"

"Fleur... I..." began Hermione, unsure of what she really wanted to say. She held those blue eyes which searched her own before Fleur sighed and looked away.

"It is fine," Fleur said. Shining silver blonde hair covered her sculptured profile and walking away, she murmured, "I did not expect you to. Forget my invitation of dinner. I am sure you have better ways in which to spend your time."

Hermione watched her, a dumbfounded expression on her face, and she most likely would've kept standing there, watching her, if Parvati hadn't levitated a few every flavor beans to whap them at the back of her head. Turning around, she faced her friends, both of which wore disapproving expressions.

"Well?" said Lavender peevishly as she stood up. Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips, unconsciously mimicking Hermione. "You are going after her, aren't you? If you don't... well..." Lavender's eyes narrowed more and she said in her very best attempt at a threatening tone, "We'll never forgive you!" She looked down at her girlfriend for support and said, "Isn't that right, Parvati?"

Rising to her feet, Parvati looked closely at Hermione, pausing as she wore a solemn face, then she said quietly, "That upset her, Hermione, it really did. You should talk with her, make an apology. But," a hint of a smile played on Parvati's lips, "don't say anything you don't mean." She glanced over at Lavender. "Some girls can tell if you lie."

"That's right!" Lavender declared, flipping her hair over her shoulder imperiously. "Which is why I'll be able to tell if you're not nice to her! So you have to do your very best to fix things. Go on," Lavender made a shooing motion with her hands. "Get a move on!"

Forming a small smile of thanks, Hermione rushed out the Three Broomsticks. Leaving Parvati and Lavender to themselves, something they always liked.

\---

Running after Fleur was something that Hermione was getting used to even though she didn't much like it. But run she did, and for not the first time in her life she wished she was a little more broom inclined because it would certainly help her get places faster. She shivered at the thought. If only they didn't go up so high and were so unsteady and were just so horribly broom-like.

Sometimes she just wanted to go out and buy a rug. Even though they were still having a spot of importing problems when it came to them.

She didn't know how or why, but somehow Hermione knew that Fleur had gone back to her house. Maybe it was instinct or luck, she had no idea, but whatever told her this was right though. Because before Hermione, huffing and puffing from lack of air, could even lift her hand to knock, the door opened for her.

No one was there but Hermione entered anyway, somehow knowing that Fleur was well aware she was on the premises. The door quietly shut and the golden coat hanger snatched the cloak off her shoulders. Hermione thought that it must be angry with her because of her treatment of Fleur and smiled warily at it.

The coat hanger, Goldie, she remembered it was called, bristled at this then tossing her cloak on itself, it pointed Hermione down the hall and towards the parlor. Cautiously heading that way, Hermione called out, "Fleur?"

Hermione found Fleur sitting in front of the fireplace in a large leather chair, staring placidly up at the portrait of her family. On seeing Hermione enter, Gabrielle stuck out her tongue and made a series of disgusting faces. Fleur's lips moved into a bare smile and she said, "You've made Gabrielle cross."

"Really?" asked Hermione lightly, stopping to stand at one side of the chair. "I couldn't tell. She always looks that way when I'm here, after all."

"Hm," Fleur murmured, chuckling a bit. "That is true, I suppose."

"Fleur, about earlier... I--" Hermione started hesitantly.

"I said it is fine," said Fleur almost harshly, fixing her gaze on the fire, watching the crackling flames before her. "We have nothing between us, you and I. Certainly I never expected you to care for me. I hoped... eh, foolish things." Blue eyes glittered, reflecting the burning fire, and she said quietly, "Do not worry. I will survive."

"But you... the ritual..." Hermione stumbled over the words. "You said--"

"I will survive," repeated Fleur bitingly. She kept her gaze locked on the fire and Hermione watched a tick emerge in her jaw. "I ask again for you to leave now."

Hermione was motionless for a long while, staring at Fleur's expression which was cold and without feeling, something that she had never thought she would see. Fleur could be infuriating, arrogant, and often obnoxious at times, but she was never like this. Never.

She looked at the sharp jaw line, fierce and uncompromising, going well with silvery blonde hair, feathering down her shoulders. Hermione's eyes traveled down to Fleur's hands, once long and elegant but soft and gentle now formed in the shape of claws, nails hard as they shone in the light of the fire, showing them to be dangerous weapons.

"Fleur," whispered Hermione in shock, unconsciously echoing the words that Ron had said to her only two months ago. "What's happened to you?"

Looking to Hermione who gasped at what she saw, deep blue eyes turned golden, glittering at her as she said, "Nothing." Fleur sighed and looked back at the fire. "This is what happens sometimes. My veela blood takes control. You have seen the shift, surely? From one form to the next in pure blooded veela?"

"Yes," said Hermione, recalling her trip to the Quidditch World Cup and the veela that had performed there, and also recalling it from the book that Fleur had given her a few days ago. Despite knowing precisely why this was going on, she still felt compelled to ask, "But why is it happening to you?"

"Emotional distress," Fleur shrugged. "It is a natural defense, one supposes. To ward off people from causing my kind pain." She gave a hollow laugh and smiled up at Gabrielle who was making funny faces to undoubtedly lift her spirits. "Although it does not work so effectively in these harsh modern times." Directing her gaze back at Hermione who hadn't moved, she murmured, "I said you can leave."

"I don't want to leave," said Hermione firmly, looking extremely stubborn. "I want to talk with you, Fleur. I didn't mean what I said back there, really I didn't. It's just, well, I don't like all this attention... it bothers me." Blushing and wearing a very flustered expression, she turned away from Fleur to look out the window. "I wish you hadn't kissed me in public like that, is all."

There was a moment of silence and then the only sound was the rustling of Fleur's clothes as she stood up. A soft touch was on Hermione's cheek, turning her head and she gasped on looking into Fleur's features, back to normal, full of loveliness, blue eyes alight as they bore into her earnestly.

"We are alone now," Fleur said softly, her voice lilting. Studying Hermione for a moment longer, she tilted her head to one side then said, "May I kiss you?"

Being with Fleur like this, feeling her touch, caressed by her warm gaze, knowing that for whatever reason she was wanted by this person, that she was perhaps even loved by them, Hermione did the only thing she felt that she could. Shakily, she nodded her head and said in a breath of a whisper, "Yes."

Then they were kissing once more. Only this time it was a hundred times better than before because this time Hermione knew what to expect. She knew those lips would be soft and tender on her own but eager as they pressed into her in a sweet demand, opening her up and tasting deep. There were no eyes to inspect her, to envy her, only Fleur and her warmth, her love, and Hermione felt that she was drowning in it, it was so intense. But it didn't matter, nothing mattered but Fleur and being with her and this kiss, this embrace, going on and on.

Go on it did, with a tumble back onto the leather chair, Hermione falling onto Fleur's lap, those chilly but comforting hands on her waist, holding her close, touching her in ways she never dreamed of. Mouths opened and tongues exploring deep, gasping sighs and moans of pleasure sounded in the air as expert hands trailed up and under Hermione's shirt, cupping her breasts.

Brown eyes immediately flew open and Hermione pulled away from Fleur, causing those hands to drop onto her hips. She was breathing raggedly and a lock of hair went falling into her eyes. "No," she began, sounding slightly panicked. "I... I can't... I mean, we've only just... it's..."

"Shh," Fleur soothed, smoothing Hermione's hair back, pressing it softly into her head as she smiled. "I understand," she assured. "I do not want you to rush into anything you might regret later, Hermione."

All was quiet then Hermione sighed, looking immensely relieved, then she hid her face on Fleur's shoulder, murmuring into her neck, "I like how you say that."

"Say what?" questioned Fleur, wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist, pulling her up and moving their bodies closer.

"My name," Hermione replied with a tiny smile.

"Ah," said Fleur wisely, amusement resounding in her tones. "Well then," she pronounced rather loftily. "I think I will have to call you that more often then. It might help you respond better to me in class, non? Hermione," she said, doing an effective impression of herself while teaching in Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Do you know the most effective way to slay a gargoyle?"

"Yes," said Hermione with exaggerated annoyance, getting into the game, moving further into Fleur's embrace and smiling wider. "'But I won't tell you unless you say my name again."

"Hermione," Fleur lilted out, her French accent making her sound smoother than a normal person. Elegant fingers crawled up Hermione's sides, lightly tickling her as she went on, "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione!"

Collapsing into giggles, Hermione gasped out, "Stop it! I can't stand being tickled, even if you are saying my name!"

"I apologize," murmured Fleur, resting her hands on the small of Hermione's back and rubbing it in tender circles. "I promise to not do that to you again."

"It's all right," said Hermione with a quiet happiness.

They were motionless for a long while, simply enjoying the embrace, being together and feeling at peace, when Fleur sighed softly, shifting her body. She pressed a light kiss on Hermione's cheek and murmured, "Thank you for this."

"You don't have to thank me, Fleur," said Hermione, looking a bit alarmed, moving back to study Fleur carefully. "I wanted to." She blushed and turned away from Fleur for a moment. Looking at her again, Hermione reached out, tentatively resting the tips of her fingers on Fleur's face, feeling more confident this time, because she realized what she was saying really was true. "I wanted to. I like you, I really do."

"I am glad," said Fleur softly, forming her always glittering smile.

And for the first time since she had seen it, Hermione didn't scowl. No, instead she formed a glittering smile of her own. One that made Fleur smile all the brighter before she moved forward to capture Hermione's lips with her own for a passionate kiss. Then suddenly, they had better things to do than smile.

Far better.

End


End file.
